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Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Sorry, Dudes.

Hey. So I know I failed at the last 4 days of NaBloPoMo, which I'm sorry about, but the school stuff has come up again, and the Christmas stuff, and the depression fatigue/dullness. I have read the next batch of chapters, two of which I live tweeted (I have updated that post with a transcript in case you missed it). I'll get something up soon. It felt good blogging again, I don't want to slip back into not doing it again.

I have a half-written post I keep meaning to finish, but then I get distracted by something shiny, or struck by the thought of how little money I suddenly have because EVERYONE IN THE WORLD NEEDS A PRESENT, and they all need the perfect one otherwise I'm an abject failure at just, well, life. And apparently if I'm not filled with motherfucking Christmas cheer at all times then I'm a bigger douche than Anastasia Dickbag Grey, and that takes a lot of energy, you know? My natural state of being is 'grinch'. I don't like it, but there it is.

I was walking behind a pair of middle-aged women in town the day before yesterday who were wearing these ridiculous three-feet high Dr Seuss-like Santa hats they'd decorated with tinsel and Christmas lights, and I swear to God, I was snarling at them - SNARLING - for at least five minutes before I caught myself and forced the hateful scowl of humbuggery off my face.

I don't know why. I do love Christmas. Just, you know, for me. Just me. And people I know and like. Now THERE'S the Christmas spirit!

The first draft of my poor abandoned blog post was 'Things That are the Worst', but I figured that:

1) It isn't very seasonal and, more importantly,

2) The list was far too long.

So now it's something else. I also have a really frightening post mid-edit where I've gone around the web and collected all the 50 Shades merchandise I could find and listed it all in order of weirdness, but honestly that almost made me suicide, so that one'll have to wait.

Chin up, bby. Plenty of time for ze blogging in between turkey and trees and presents. No rush, no rush.